


Moose and Squirrel Meet Elf

by puglybug23



Category: Doctor Who, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Supernatural, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings Online, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Hope you like it!, bear with me I'm new to this, the main character is an OFC rune-keeper elf, then recently I had a dream about it, there's a lot of backstory that I'm skipping for this story, this started from a really old RP, with a complicated past
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-02-24 03:55:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2567312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puglybug23/pseuds/puglybug23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elraenne Baledhel, elf of the Woodland Realm, wanderer of the realms, and master rune-keeper, has a long, complicated past. Having only recently escaped from being held prisoner and tortured by Loki Laufeyson for twenty years, she is trying to simultaneously hide from the trickster by posing as a human and enjoy having a successful career as a filmmaker. But when a PA is discovered to have been brutally murdered on set, Sam and Dean Winchester come to the scene, and their suspicions are aroused by the elf's complicated and secret history.</p><p>This is an ongoing work, with prequels and sequels that have been created but not yet written down. If you want to skip Elraenne's backstory, go to chapter two. Otherwise, chapter one is a condensed version of her past so that you shouldn't be completely confused by her character and so that you can at least sort of understand why she acts how she does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Elraenne's Backstory

**Author's Note:**

> This is an ongoing work, with prequels and sequels that have been created but not yet written down.
> 
> This comes from a really old RP that I recently had a dream about, that inspired me to turn at least part of it into a fanfic. The main OFC has a complicated backstory that would help this story make sense, but I'll try to write this story in a way that the backstory isn't 100% necessary to know. 
> 
> If you want to skip the backstory, go to chapter two. Otherwise, chapter one is a condensed version of Elraenne's past so that you shouldn't be completely confused by her character and so that you can at least sort of understand why she acts how she does.

**So that the rest of this story makes more sense, this chapter is a condensed version of the OFC's complicated past**

 

Elraenne Baledhel was born in the Woodland Realm, to two humble elves who loved her dearly. To anyone who was unaware of the legend, she seemed to be nothing remarkable whatsoever-- just a typical elf child. However, she was anything but ordinary. 

The evening that she was to be born, a meteorite landed several kilometers away from her parents' house. It started a large fire in the forest and many were forced to evacuate their houses, including her parents. Her mother struggled to keep up with the other fleeing elves, having a painfully swollen belly. After hurriedly stumbling over tree roots and through smoke, her water broke, and she was forced to stop. Her husband stayed with her and helped to deliver the baby, which came remarkably easily and looked to be strong and healthy. They named her Elraenne and already loved her fiercely. But their love was not to last much longer --by that time the fire was too close to be able to outrun, and the family made the difficult decision to stay together until the end. They had about seven minutes of sharing their love and joy before the fire overtook them.

The next afternoon, elves began to survey the damage. The fire had been extinguished for a couple hours. Damage to the forest and to some homes was severe, but the majority of people had made it out of the area of danger safely. Only a few were unaccounted for, and it was for these individuals that the warriors were now searching. They found the family quickly-- or rather, what was left of them. It was a wretched sight; most of the clothing, skin, and hair had been burned away, and the remains were charred white with ash. Even so, it was evident from the positions of the bodies that husband and wife had died clinging together, almost as if they were using themselves as shields for something else hidden underneath. 

The elven warriors gently pulled aside the bodies so that they could be put to rest with dignity and were astounded by what they found underneath: a little, healthy baby girl with golden hair that seemed to mimic the color of the meteor's flames and stunning blue eyes that held a stubborn, independent spark in them. Elraenne had some severe burns on her skin, but otherwise appeared unharmed. She did not cry, but instead looked around at the world as if challenging it to bring another fire or other type of foe.

In Mirkwood, nearby, a very young Legolas was celebrating his fifth birthday. His father, King Thranduil, had decided to host a party for the occasion, so the palace was hopping with guests by the time that news of the fire and the orphaned baby arrived. The child was brought to the king, who quickly summoned Elrond Halfelven of Rivendell, one of the guests and an elf known for being a wise and powerful. The fate of the child was discussed at length-- she had no other relations, as her parents had been travelers for many years and it was unclear where their origins truly lay. Eventually, Thranduil agreed to raise the child alongside Legolas, as it was considered a healthy thing for both children to have someone their own age to grow up with. The orphaned baby was given a gift from the king, as a way of accepting her into his palace-- a chunk of the very meteor that had affected so much of her life already.

 

The years passed and Legolas and Elraenne became the best of friends and were nearly inseparable. They both studied in combat-- Legolas preferred a bow and some arrows, and Elraenne favored a magical staff. Legolas easily excelled at using his weapons, but Elraenne had some more trouble. It was not that she wasn't talented, it was just that her talents lay in a different area than the elves were accustomed to dealing with. She had magic, yes, but it was a strange magic... Normally, elven magic was controlled, calculated, precise, and was studied extensively through books and lore. Elraenne's magic resembled elven magic only vaguely, as it was wild and ran away with her emotions and thoughts. Oftentimes her magic would appear to act on its own, without her even realizing that she had done something. With much effort and over time, she learned to control this by using a staff to send her magic through, but there was still a constant ebb and flow between the young elf controlling her magic and her magic controlling her. 

Thranduil observed Elraenne's activities from afar, but with a sharp eye. He saw how her magic progressed, and while he was glad that her control of it had improved, it still troubled him greatly. She was a fiercely independent child and would argue with adults or disobey rules on such a regular basis that at times he questioned if she was a civilized being at all. Her heart was in the right place, it was true-- she only ever broke regulations when she truly thought it was necessary to do so for the good of others--but that did not make her reasons completely excusable. Thranduil kept in contact with Elrond over the years, describing to him her development and his various worries concerning the orphaned child. 

The problem with the child wasn't just that she broke the rules so often-- the manner in which she broke them was also troubling. Surviving the meteor's fire had left its affect on her, in that she was astonishingly good at learning and using magic. She had barely been taught any magical skills whatsoever, yet she was capable of using her enchantments for many things that hitherto only master elves had done. And yet she was only a child! She was progressing at an incredibly rapid rate, and she was doing so through independent study. Her real classes in elven magic barely seemed to affect her at all. If she continued to invent her own version of sorcery at this rapid pace, she would quickly overpower the majority of elves in Middle Earth, if not all of them. For obvious reasons, this realization was extremely concerning.

 

Finally, when Elraenne was turning fifty, Thranduil thought that something had to be done. She had abilities beyond those of her instructors as well as a blatant disregard for the rules. Her heart still rang true, but Thranduil was well aware that if her loyalties were ever to change in the future, it would be too easy for her to defeat any who rose against her. As it was, she was not currently so skilled or strong that she was undefeatable, and for this reason Thranduil decided that now was the last time he may be able to act. He called a council, including Elrond and other wise elves from neighboring realms, to discuss the situation. The conversation turned heated, as the majority of elves called for her to be executed before she became a threat and before she became unstoppable. Fear ran through the hearts of many as visions of the young girl turning against her own kind filled their minds. 

Suddenly, Elrond stood up and demanded the attention of the others. Do not kill her, he pleaded. She is no longer a child, but she is still incredibly young. It would be unfair to not even allow her the chance to prove that she is pure (or not) of heart. The others protested, asking if it was worth the risk. 

Elrond again demanded order. When all was quiet, he proffered a different idea: if they would not allow her to stay among the elves, why not exile her, and allow her to keep her life? 

No, no, no, the others insisted. If she is exiled, will that not fuel a hatred in her heart against the elves? That is the very thing they were trying to avoid. Just execute her life in order to save the lives of many in the future. One currently innocent life in exchange for the lives of many.

That is not necessary, Elrond stated. Her mind will be wiped clean; she will have no idea the elves even exist. Allow her to live, to have a chance, but take the elves out of the equation. This way, all lives can be spared. 

The rest of the council nodded, slowly warming up to the idea. Yes, yes, all lives can be spare and the future crisis can be avoided. Besides, in all honesty, there is a high probability that she will die on her own anyway, being without memories of how to use her magic or weapons.

And so it was. Elrond himself performed the spell that blanked her mind after she was knocked unconscious. She was brought far away from elvish civilization and Middle Earth, so that she couldn't possibly wander back to it, and was left under a tree. Legolas was told that she had run away, and he spent years believing her to be dead.

 

Elraenne did not die in the woods, as predicted. She remembered pieces of information, things that Elrond had presumably allowed her to remember so that she stood a fighting chance in this strange new world. For instance, she knew her first name, and she still spoke in the elvish tongue. The piece of the meteorite that Thranduil had given her all those years ago was still in her pocket and she quickly discovered that the inexplicable magic she seemed to possess was more easily controlled when used in conjunction with this rock. Over the years, she rediscovered her own version of her sorcery, using only spoken spells that she invented and the rune-stone that she carved out of the meteor chunk. Her abilities grew and she lived in isolation from beings other than woodland animals for many years, until she decided, out of curiosity, to get to know the humans.

At first, living among humans was difficult. Elraenne didn't know that she wasn't human, nor that humans don't have magic, but she could see simply enough that she was different. She used an enchantment to make her appearance look more human and she hid her magical abilities, but she struggled for that majority of her life to find her place in the world. Her human friends would grow old and die, and she would be hunted for witchcraft. She didn't know what she was-- something that was certainly not in its right place in the world.

 

Years passed and one day Elraenne stumbled upon a police box. She went on many adventures with the Doctor, a man who also had no real place in the world and who aged incredibly slowly. But then the Doctor discovered a portal through to Middle Earth, one that had been there for all of time but had rarely been used and was, he suspected, completely forgotten about. They traveled through it together and discovered that Elraenne did have a people after all. Her memories did not return, but she and the Doctor traveled to different points in her life and observed her childhood as voyeurs, thus answering nearly all of her questions about who she was and how she came to be under that tree so many years ago. Eventually, he left her in "present" day (although the use of that word is imprecise and rather wibbly-wobbly) in Middle Earth and she returned to the elves to find more answers. She was greeted coldly by most, as she was now a dangerous outsider, but Legolas and Elrond were very pleased to find her alive and well. 

She stayed in Rivendell for a year, but couldn't stand living with so many laws and rules. She had gotten used to doing as she pleased and wasn't about to give up her freedom just to attempt to fit in with elves who did not want her there, anyway. She left as soon as she had come and wandered the lands of Middle Earth as the stories of her powerful and unique magic began to spread.

 

The stories of Elraenne the wanderer, Elraenne the powerful, earned her the last name of Baledhel. Far off in the realm of Asgard, Loki Laufeyson, god of mischief and illusion, heard of her power and became interested in harnessing her magic for himself. He already had great magic of his own, but if he could have hers too the possibilities would be endless! He performed some enchantments and traveled down to Middle Earth, where he successfully captured Elraenne. She refused to do his bidding and Legolas and a large band of elves were able to save her; however, it was not long before the god again had her behind bars, and this time he was much more careful about staying hidden. 

For twenty years, he tortured her in innumerable ways, trying to discover a way to use her magic as his own. In the end, he succeeded by controlling her mind so that she would do as he demanded. He used her to infiltrate the kingdom of Mirkwood and she killed several innocent elves there as he pretended to be Thranduil. Legolas knew what was happening and managed to help Elraenne fight the mind control. They broke the link and managed to expel Loki from Middle Earth, but it was unclear where exactly he went to. 

Knowing that the elven community now looked even more negatively on her, and knowing that Loki could return at any time, Elraenne left Middle Earth behind to hide once again among the humans of Earth, using her magic to pass through the portal. 

 

The rest of the story picks up here, with Elraenne in hiding from Loki but not in immediate danger from him. It has been four years since she passed through the portal again, and she is working as a producer/director of a tv show in her own production studio in the United States.


	2. A Mysterious PA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the beginning of this story. Chapter one is the backstory of the OFC to help this story make more sense, but it hopefully shouldn't be 100% necessary to read it in order to understand what's happening. 
> 
> So, chapter two is the start of the story. :) Here we go...

"Cut. Alright, good job everyone. Take five, let's get ready for scene 10 B." Elraenne made a more notes on her clipboard and stood up, heading over to the cameras. She spoke with the grips and gaffers for a few minutes while they worked out the kinks of the next scene's lighting and camera set up, then she wandered over to the craft service table, where many delicious treats had been laid out for the crew to enjoy. She looked it over, choosing to pass over the sugary items and picking up a couple carrot sticks instead. 

These days, eating was not her primary concern. She had a TV show to create, after all, and that tended to take enough of her time that she sometimes accidentally skipped meals. But she also didn't need a ton of sustenance to live healthily-- she was an elf, after all, although she made a point to hide it. She kept a simple enchantment going at all times to make herself appear more human. Pointy ears were generally a dead giveaway, but there were other things too that could clue someone in on her identity, were they looking for those signs.

She frowned a little bit at the available options on the craft service table. The food seemed much more.... luxurious? than usual. She wasn't entirely sure who had decided that was a good idea, because it certainly wasn't in the budget. As she stared at a pink and orange jello sculpture of a clapboard, she made a mental note to have a talk with the craft service manager at the end of the day.

"Is something wrong?" a smooth, calm voice asked from across the table. Elraenne lifted her eyes from the jello and saw a short, well-dressed teenage boy step forward from the shadows that he had been hidden in. He had crisply combed, even black hair and a pale complexion, but he was attractive. Elraenne's frown shifted from annoyance to confusion-- she didn't recognize this boy, and she made a strict point to make sure she personally knew everyone who worked on her set. 

The boy looked vaguely worried by her lack of response to his question. He squinted his eyes and tilted his head slightly. "You look as if you might be ill, but you are completely healthy. You must be upset about something. Is it my choices for nourishment? I was informed that I should find food that is considered "nice". Have I made a mistake?" He studied Elraenne's face closely as she tried to recover from her initial surprise at the way he was speaking. He added, half to himself, "I thought the edible sculpture that is in the shape of an object related to filmmaking was very "nice". I found it to be amusing."

At the mention of the ridiculous jello slate, Elraenne regained her senses. She let out a half-laugh in more astonishment than amusement and smiled at the boy. "The jello is very... nice... indeed. But I think that when you go to buy food for tomorrow, you should go with Carol. She's our usual craft service manager and can show you what she means by "nice". I take it you must be a new PA?" She continued to smile kindly. Being a PA was a difficult job, and it was not helpful for the boy to be yelled at for an honest mistake, especially one as harmless as this. 

"Do you mean, 'production assistant'? Yes, that is what I was told that I am. And you are the director of this, uh, TV show and the owner of this company, Gemma Wilson." He stated it as if it was a textbook fact, with little emotion whatsoever, and looked evenly at her.

"Um, yes, that is me." Elraenne still hadn't completely gotten used to having a false name. It had been four years since she had left Middle Earth to hide among the humans here, but it felt like it had only been a few weeks. She attributed that to the fact that she ages so slowly. "And what's your name, then?"

"Ian." He blinked once and continued to look at her. She felt a little bit uncomfortable under his gaze, but was reassured by the fact that he didn't seem unfriendly. He just wasn't exactly warm and fuzzy, either.

"Well, Ian, what made you decide to become a PA here? Do you want to make TV shows, too? Or just curious about what we do?" Elraenne smiled and walked around the table so that she wouldn't have to talk over the wiggling, shiny clapboard. The way it moved seemed to be mocking her, and she was already imagining the joy she would feel in crushing the darn thing later. 

"Oh, I... would like to be a director, like you." Ian finally looked away for a moment, at the rest of the set, but quickly returned his gaze to hers.

"That is a wonderful thing to hear. Tell you what, why don't you stick with me, and I can show you some of what I do? Come on." Elraenne ushered him around the table again and back towards the set. Break was over and she had work to do, but she wanted to get to know this boy better. It was an unusual thing, to have a new PA hired without her deciding it, and she wanted to see what exactly this Ian was capable of.

For the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, the cast and crew worked hard to create their piece of art. The show was an action drama, set in King Arthur's time but with present-day characters who had gotten stuck there while time traveling. Every season had a different type of foe they had to figure out how to use medieval weaponry and magic to beat, and there was usually a character who got angsty halfway through. Typical television show, sure, but Elraenne loved it. It was an escape from all that had happened to her in the past, and it was a really, honestly fun thing to do. She felt that, finally, after looking her whole life, she had found her place in the world. She would be happy never having to leave the set again.

 

Around 8 pm, Elraenne said the key words—“that’s a wrap for today”— and everyone put away their things and left. Except for Ian, who was standing near the craft service table staring at that confounding jello atrocity. Elraenne internally sighed a little bit and headed over to speak with him. He was a nice enough fellow, but he had had some trouble understanding what he was supposed to be doing. Really, she never would’ve hired him herself, but she figured that since he’s here he may as well learn. He seemed intelligent, yet he struggled with simple things like sarcasm and loving insults. And Lord knows, the crew and the grips on sets are always brimming full with both of those things. Elraenne loved it, but it took a certain type of humor to appreciate it, and it seemed that Ian just didn’t understand it.

On the other hand, he had shown that he was remarkably capable at other things, such as lifting heavy equipment or fixing broken machinery. For being such a wiry teenager, he could lift as much as any of the hardier grips, which they thought was an open invitation for teasing and more sarcasm. 

She walked up behind him, intending to ask if he was alright, but he spoke first.

“Are you not leaving with the others?” He turned and looked at her again, with slightly squinted eyes and a general confused expression on his face.

“That is the same question that I was about to ask you,” Elraenne replied. This boy was hard to make heads or tails of.

“I thought I would lock up the place for you, since I am your assistant, after all,” Ian explained. His eyes darted around the set as if looking for something, and his face showed more emotion than it had all day. This sudden change in his demeanor Elraenne found to be a little unsettling.

“Well, thank you for the offer, but that’s really my job, since it’s my studio. Besides, I have some more work to do here to prepare for tomorrow. Why don’t you hustle home, and I’ll see you tomorrow morning at 6:30?” She was taller than Ian, and she bent her head down slightly, trying to get him to make eye contact with her. Earlier he wouldn’t let go of her gaze, and now he wouldn’t look at her at all. She was suddenly sure that she didn’t want him to be left in her studio alone, whatever his purpose was.

Ian didn’t respond for a moment, still looking around the set pieces. Suddenly he grabbed Elraenne’s elbow and started moving her towards the door. “You should not be here,” he half-whispered to her. “Go.” He let go of her, expecting her to leave.

She stayed put, her senses suddenly on alert. She was again surprised by his strength, and she wondered what he was doing here. Who is he, really? She spent a moment lost in thought, trying to puzzle out the conundrum, when he turned to her again and more urgently repeated, “Go!”

Again, she stayed put. Suddenly, she sensed something moving by the set— in the same direction that Ian was fiercely glaring. Her scalp seemed to prickle a little as she tried to figure out what they were both looking at. Normally, elf eyes would have no problem seeing something as close as on the set, but something was blocking her vision. She glanced at Ian, annoyed that he was there and thus preventing her from using her magic. 

He turned to face her directly. “If you do not go now, it will not end nicely for you. Leave while you can.” He was staring her down, and she instinctively responded by glaring obstinately back and holding her ground. 

And then it was all darkness. The lights had gone out— Elraenne let herself believe that it was probably just the last grip exiting the building, not realizing that other people were still here. She muttered to Ian to stay put while she found the light switch, not really expecting him to listen to her, and started to walk across the pitch black set. 

She knew the set by heart, so it wasn’t hard to walk across in theory. But there were always new surprises that made traversing the area more difficult in reality. Cords sprung up at weird angles, forgotten or misplaced A-clamps were a hazard, and the sound cart was nearly always left somewhere that it shouldn’t be. Had there been even the smallest amount of light, her elf eyes would have been able to see, but studios were meant to have no outside light enter. Even magic eyes are no use in complete darkness, and she didn’t dare use her rune-stone, for fear of who might see her. Besides, she didn’t really feel that there was any danger at this point. 

As she quickly but carefully walked, she felt the presence of other beings around her, but couldn’t quite place what they were. She attributed it to being on alert due to Ian’s strange behavior. There was nothing there, she was just trying to explain to herself why he was so acting so bizarre. She stepped over a large bundle of cords and felt along the wall for the fuse box. When she found it, she flipped the first two switches with a practiced familiarity and turned to face the now fully-lit studio. 

She saw no one. 

But that was both a good thing and a bad thing— where was Ian? 

She considered for a moment calling out to him, but decided that that might end up working against her. Instead, she walked quickly in and around the studio, checking all of the rooms and corners. Again, she saw no one, but she definitely felt that multiple people were nearby. The feeling left her uneasy.

Elraenne reached the main room again and decided that Ian must have left. She would speak with him tomorrow and demand to know exactly what he was going on about. She set up some camera equipment and set pieces in preparation for the next morning and turned out the lights once more. As she once again walked through the dark to leave the studio for the night, she felt that the black was alive with… people? souls? beings? She wasn’t sure, but it made her feel on edge. Without being asked for, small, niggling worries entered her mind. What if, after only four years, Loki had already found her again? She had no idea if he was even looking or even cared, but after the amount of destruction she had caused before, she didn’t think she could bear to harm that many people again.

Elraenne opened the studio door and the nighttime welcomed her. The streetlights were brightly lit and the weather was windy, but otherwise clear. Those worries disappeared again. It was just a normal night, there was no reason to be afraid of anything in or out of her studio. She went to her car and went home to get some sleep before returning to work the next day.


	3. Angels and Demons and Elves oh my!

By the next morning, Elraenne had pretty much forgotten about last night’s incident. She drove to the studio, planning the scenes that needed to be shot for the day out in her head, but all thoughts concerning her TV show were thrown out of her head the moment the studio came into sight. The parking lot was filled with police cars, and the lights of the vehicles were mixing with the light of dawn. Elraenne parked her car slowly, trying to get a good view of what was happening, but found it was too hard to see from this distance. She got out of her car and walked over to the nearest officer, who was guarding the border of the crime scene tape. 

“Excuse me,” she said politely as she approached, “could you tell me what’s going on?”

The policeman looked at her, unsure if she was just a nosy person or if she was actually connected with this affair. “There has been an accident,” he responded vaguely. “And who might you be?”

“I am the owner of this studio,” Elraenne responded, perhaps a bit proudly. “What do you mean by ‘accident’?” She looked around at the various cars and people meandering around, a bad feeling turning the pit of her stomach into knots. Two tall men in suits nodded in her direction and began to walk over. 

“You’re the owner? Well, maybe you can clear up some questions for us. We—“ 

The policeman was cut off by a strong hand clapping his shoulder. The two men in suits had come up behind him and they held up FBI badges to Elraenne with a practiced gesture. 

“We’ll take it from here,” one told the officer. He half-grinned at him until the officer reluctantly stepped away. He turned to face Elraenne again. “I’m Agent Harrison and this is Agent Starr. We’d like to ask you a couple of questions.” 

He pursed his lips and squinted his eyes ever so slightly. Elraenne thought that he looked a little bit ridiculous. And their names! Elraenne let out a little bit of a laugh and received two hard stares in return. She couldn’t resist, she had to ask.

“Harrison and Starr? Do you two sing? You’ve certainly got the right hair for it,” she grinned, nodding towards Agent Starr. 

Neither of the agents seemed to be in the mood for jokes. Elraenne swallowed her laughter, the double bitchfaces from the agents reminding her that a crime scene is a serious place.

She cleared her throat lightly and gave them her best serious face. “Yes, I would be happy to answer your questions, as soon as you tell me what’s going on.”

Agent Harrison had no time for easing into things. “There’s been a death. It wasn’t an accident. The rest we’re still working out.”

Elraenne was shocked. A death? No, it couldn’t be… No wonder the agents were in no mood for joking around. She supposed she should’ve figured this out based on the fact that the FBI was present. The fears that she had had last night in the studio suddenly returned full force. A death… Someone had died. In her studio. She had a feeling that she knew who it was. She stared at the door of the studio as if it would give her some answers. 

“Alright, why don’t we go somewhere a little less in the open?” suggested Agent Starr. Elraenne absentmindedly nodded and ducked under the crime scene tape. She followed them as they started to walk across the parking lot, but she continued to stare at the studio door. People were coming in and out of it, busy with making notes concerning the crime scene. A body. The body. There was a dead body in there. In her studio. She had seen plenty of dead bodies before, most having died at her own hand, but that didn’t make this any easier to swallow. It was so unexpected, the poor PA, she had thought she was safe from that sort of life. She hoped dearly that whoever had killed the boy, assuming it was the boy who was currently lying on the floor of the set, wasn’t here because of her. She had enough blood on her hands and had no wish to add more. The floor. Of her studio. A body. Dead. The words seemed to resonate.

Her mind was spinning and she couldn’t stand it anymore. They had only walked twenty steps or so, but in the time inside of her mind she had been gone a month. Without stopping to really consider what she was doing, she reached into her jacket’s inner pocket and subtly pulled out her rune stone, holding it tight in the palm of her left hand. She felt its warmth as it reacted to her thoughts and guessed her wishes, and she quietly whispered a spell and her eyes flashed. She felt as the warmth spread through her body. Without wasting time, she turned and walked quickly towards the studio door. The agents had been walking in front of her, and she hoped they didn’t turn around in the next thirty seconds. The other policemen paid her no attention, thanks to the spell. She wasn’t invisible, per se; it was more that she wouldn’t register in the conscious minds of people who saw her. This only went so far, however. If she actually engaged with someone, or if they were looking specifically for her, she would be seen. She just hoped that the agents refrained from looking for her until she had done what she wanted to.

Elraenne opened the studio door and slipped inside. It was less busy inside, but all of the studio lights were on, which was a bit jarring. For a moment, it crossed her mind that having the lights all on for this amount of time was going to be very expensive, but that quickly disappeared from her thoughts when her eyes fell on the body. 

It was Ian— her suspicions had been correct. But he didn’t look that bad… she had definitely seen bodies be mutilated more than this. She crossed the floor and approached him to get a better look. 

He was laying flat on his back, staring at the ceiling with an open mouth. Coming out from his shoulders, on the ground, were what appeared to be giant black wings. Elraenne knelt down by Ian’s head and touched the floor, discovering that the wings were images that had been burnt onto the cement flooring. That seemed rather strange to her. 

She turned her attention to his body. His eyes were surrounded by black marks and blood, and there was a round hole in his stomach. Otherwise he appeared as he had the day before. Elraenne looked more closely at the wound and decided that that must’ve been what killed him. He had been stabbed. She cursed herself for having not stayed longer— perhaps she could’ve helped him. 

Elraenne glanced around the room— the spell was still working and she was being ignored. Good. She reached out two fingers and placed them on Ian’s cold forehead. Closing her eyes, she uttered another quiet spell to help her better examine what had happened to the body. She felt, in thousands of tiny vibrations, exactly what shape the corpse was in. She found the stab wound and felt it with her mind. It was fresh, yes, but something wasn’t quite right with it. She frowned as she concentrated and searched the body more deeply. Her mind explored every area, finding many old wounds, and many wounds that had never been healed. There were many injuries that should have been fatal, and yet she had seen this boy walking and talking just yesterday. She felt as if the world was spinning beneath her, she was concentrating so hard. 

Suddenly she gasped and pulled her hand back. She quickly looked around and, to her relief, she was still being ignored. She calmly and slowly stood up, thoughts still reeling from her spell. She had discovered much, but learned little, and now had even more questions than before. The boy… he had died several weeks before. That much was obvious. But, somehow, he had been alive yesterday. How could this be? 

Elraenne looked at her set and thought how strange it was that it still looked the same. There seemed to be little sign of struggle or battle… but surely the boy hadn’t just given in to this fate. Maybe she was missing something. 

She walked to the back of the large set pieces, where the braces held up the temporary walls. All seemed normal, just plywood, nails, and sandbags. She turned the corner to walk around the far back side of the set. Nothing special here, either, except… there was something. What was it? 

On the back side of one piece of plywood was a painted symbol, in dark red, with some scorch marks near it. Elraenne had no idea what it could be. She pulled out the notebook that she always had on set and drew a copy of it onto a page, to be studied more later. She reached out a hand to touch it and scraped some of the paint off. No, it wasn’t paint at all! She hurriedly wiped her hand on her jeans, having been taken by surprise. It was dried blood. 

Well. This was something entirely new. In a way, it was a bit of a relief. She had heard of symbols drawn in blood used as an ancient form of magic. Maybe black magic, she didn’t know. But she did know that it wasn’t the kind of magic that Loki would use. Whatever had killed the poor PA was not here because of her. She breathed a sigh of relief, even as she felt worried about this new force of evil. At least, it appeared to be evil. She supposed she didn’t really know for sure if it was or not. For all she knew, Ian had been the evil one.

But what does this symbol do? She stared at it, still holding her rune stone in her hand. She absentmindedly rubbed the magic rock as she contemplated what it might mean. Suddenly, she felt compelled to find out— and what better way to find out what something does than to use it yourself? She wasn’t sure how, but she seemed to know instinctively what to do. She thought that it was the magic itself that told her what she was to do. 

She held her rune stone firmly in her left hand and uttered a spell, eyes flashing. The stone glowed orange and a small tendril of condensed flame formed from the end of the piece of meteorite, like a miniature whip. She flung it against the palm of her right hand and winced as it stung the skin and created an open wound. The fire disappeared and she put the stone back in her pocket. 

The original symbol was drawn to the right of a fake window in the set, so she moved to the left side of the window to draw her own version. Following it as closely as possible, she dragged her injured hand across the set piece, tensing and biting her lip as the tender skin rubbed angrily against the rough plywood. After a few minutes, she stepped back to check her handiwork. It looked alright to her. She peered out of the fake window in the set piece, through a lace curtain, and saw that the agents were still not inside. There were perhaps ten officers wandering around her studio. Looking back at the symbol, she took her wounded hand and placed it firmly in the center of the circle. 

Commotion could be heard on the other side of the set piece. With her hand still on the symbol, Elraenne craned her neck to peer through the lace curtain again, and saw that the ceiling was filling with strange, turbulent black smoke. The smoke itself was coming out of six of the officers standing in the studio. A terrible noise, somewhere between the rush of wind and a scream, filled the air, as the two FBI agents entered the studio door in a fury, wielding weapons. 

“Demons!” the taller one hollered over the noise, as they looked wildly at the sight around them. He looked over at the spot where Elraenne was and she instinctively ducked back behind the wall. “There!” she heard him tell the other agent, as the rush of black smoke disappeared as quickly as it had come. 

Elraenne realized the agents were coming straight to where she was, and the charm she had put on herself had worn off by now. She hurriedly pulled out her stone again and started to heal up her hand. Minuscule sparks of green light danced over her skin, creating the illusion that she was glowing. The hand’s injury was deep and angry, so it took a moment to heal— she didn’t have time to fix it completely before the agents reached the other side of the wall. As they rounded the back corner, the rune stone was back in her pocket and the last bit of green light had just faded.


	4. Fight ALL of the fairies?

The agents seemed to be simultaneously surprised and unsurprised to see her there. After just a split second of hesitation, they continued towards her and stopped at a distance that was menacingly close. Elraenne had thought their faces looked hard before, but now their expressions were even more severe. They had lowered their weapons, but had not put them away. Agent Harrison glared at her and she held it evenly, having had a lot of experience dealing with people who challenged her. 

Agent Harrison spoke in a voice so low that Elraenne thought he must’ve caught a cold since he had last talked to her, not fifteen minutes ago. “Did you do that?” he asked, using his large knife to gesture towards the freshly bloodied wall. 

Elraenne hesitated, trying to determine which answer would make him less angry. 

Her pause compelled him to ask the question again, but more firmly. “I said, did you do that?”

Generally, people don’t respond well to having weapons pointed in their faces. Elraenne was no exception to this, and even though his knife was currently not near her head, she had spent enough time imprisoned to make her a bit obstinate when being forced to do anything. So, before he could ask her a third time, she answered firmly, “No.”

Agent Harrison shifted his weight to his back foot and acted rather dramatically, raising his eyebrows and offering a sarcastic half-smile. “I’m sorry, what? I thought you just said you didn’t make that symbol, even though there’s no one else around here who could’ve done it.” He was nearly spitting his words out, his attitude and tone so thick that it was tangible. “I’m going to let you try that again. Did you make that?”

“No, I did not,” Elraenne said calmly. “I saw the same thing as you, so I came to investigate. But there was no one here. Then you came over here and started pointing weapons at me. I hardly think that knives are necessary to have a friendly conversation,” she chided, eyeing the knife. Its blade was perhaps half a foot long, with a curved, one-sided blade and inscriptions carved into the metal. 

Agent Harrison’s half-smile stayed put, and his eye twinkled slightly. “I think knives lead to better conversations.”

Agent Starr stepped forward a little bit and made a show of putting away his weapon, then cleared his throat at his partner, who reluctantly followed suit. 

“For the record, I don’t believe you,” warned Agent Harrison. 

“For the record, that’s fresh blood, and I am not bleeding,” Elraenne retorted, holding up her hands as evidence. 

Agent Harrison nodded slightly, accepting this, but still annoyed. Agent Starr, however, had a different reaction. He stepped forward and addressed the elf, furrowing his brow slightly and offering an expression of empathy. 

“Can I see your hand?” he asked kindly. Elraenne nodded, not seeing a polite way to tell him no, and he gently took her hand in his own to look at the half-healed wound. “This looks like it was painful. What happened?” He turned his gaze back to Elraenne, and she found that his eyes had been replaced with melted pools of chocolate and labrador puppies. Chocolate labrador puppies. This man was a giant puppy. 

Elraenne quickly regathered her thoughts and shrugged a little. “Things happen on set. Moving heavy equipment, there are sharp edges. It’ll be fine. It already is fine, really.” She gently pulled her hand back out of his grasp, unsure what to make of either of these FBI agents. 

Agent Starr’s eyes returned to normal. “It looks like it’s a few days old. What did you cut it on?”

“Just… a light. Heavy old lights, big barn doors, all metal. You know.” She was pretty sure he did know… that she was lying. She considered changing the subject but realized that would be a giveaway, so she stood silent for a moment. 

“It looks like it was pretty deep. Why didn’t you put a bandage on it?” Agent Starr was trying to be a puppy man again. 

“I did initially, but it’s fine now. It doesn’t need one.” Elraenne decided that maybe changing the subject was an okay move after all. “Look, is this the only thing you wanted to question me about? I had the impression that you wanted to talk about the PA on the floor over there,” she said, gesturing towards Ian’s body with her head.

“Um, yeah, actually, we did want to ask you about some other things.” Agent Starr glanced at Agent Harrison, who took his cue.

“Where were you yesterday evening?”

Elraenne frowned a little bit. That time was a little vague. “Evening? Well, I was here in the studio, working with the crew until eight. I stayed for another hour after that and then I drove home, went to sleep, and returned here at 6:30 this morning.”

Agent Harrison raised an eyebrow slightly. “That’s very specific timing.”

Elraenne shrugged. “Sure it is. It’s my work schedule, it’s not hard to calculate. It’s usually about the same every day, but it all depends on how much we’re shooting that day.” 

“Yeah, I know how it works.” Agent Harrison peered out of the lace curtains as he asked, “Did you know him? Did he work here?”

She followed his gaze to the body and was again saddened and worried by the whole affair. Maybe these agents could answer some of her questions— they certainly seemed to be knowledgable. “I did know him, but only briefly. He began work here yesterday. I thought it was strange because I usually hire every crew member myself, and I make a point to know all of them. But I didn’t know him, and I certainly didn’t hire him. He was actually pretty useless as an assistant.” Beyond the corpse, the craft service table remained untouched since yesterday night, the jello sculpture now seeming sweet, or almost cute. Elraenne turned back to the agents. “I don’t know anything about him, except that he said his name was Ian and he spoke with a very formal manner. He also didn’t seem to understand sarcasm.”

The agents exchanged a look before Agent Starr again addressed Elraenne. “Did you notice any usual behavior, or strange occurrences yesterday? Anything at all, even if it seems unimportant.” Both agents tilted their heads slightly, giving the impression that they were listening intently. They were so in tandem with each other— it would’ve been a little unnerving had Elraenne not had even more unnerving things happen already that day.

She sighed a little bit, wondering what to say. She hadn’t actually seen anything, and she wasn’t convinced that she had sensed… what was it that the taller agent had yelled earlier? Demons? Wait, could that be? Elraenne’s eyes widened a little and she frowned. The agents were still looking steadily at her as she looked up at them. “What do demons look like?”

The men exchanged a look. “Why do you ask?” Agent Harrison replied. 

“You said all of that black smoke was demons. There were so many here, and we didn’t even know… I’m guessing the demons are responsible for the murder. But I would’ve noticed smoke in my studio. So, what do demons look like?” Elraenne resisted the urge to look through the window at the police officers who were recovering from the smoke incident. 

Agent Starr frowned. “When did I…” A look of realization crossed his face and he sighed slightly.

“Demons look like whoever they’re possessing. Or, when they don’t have a vessel, they look like black smoke,” Agent Harrison informed her.

“So, Ian was a demon?” This news was slightly heartening. She didn’t feel nearly as bad about a demon having died that she did about an innocent PA.

“No, Ian was an angel,” the agent corrected her. 

Elraenne blinked at him. “An… what?” She was usually so much better at keeping up than this. Maybe four years in hiding had made her lose her touch. She made a mental note to be more prepared in the future. For now she would just have to ask. “Who are you?”

Those words seemed to spark a change in Agent Harrison. He turned on his heel and clapped Agent Starr’s shoulder. “Well, give her the spiel, Sammy.” He made a slight face as he leaned over to examine the more recent blood symbol more closely.

Sammy stepped to the side to give the other agent more room and began what sounded like a very familiar, well-practiced speech. “Alright, well, I’m Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean. We’re not really FBI agents— we’re hunters. We travel around the country, hunting monsters.” 

Dean piped up from behind his moose of a brother. “Saving people, hunting things. The family business.” He offered a winning smile before stepping back closer to the other two. 

“Monsters?” Elraenne wondered aloud. “What do you mean by that?”

“Demons, vampires, werewolves, sometimes angels… anything that kills,” explained Dean, a little bit proudly. His smile remained steady as he patted his blade beneath his jacket. 

“So, you kill things that kill things…?” Elraenne asked. “Fighting fire with fire. That always ends well.” She raised an eyebrow slightly, but she wasn’t really judging the brothers. Lord knew that she had done plenty of the same thing, or maybe even worse.

“Well, it has ended well. For us. Not so much for the monsters.” Dean didn’t seem to be capable of taking any of this seriously. Elraenne wondered if his bravado was an act, or if he was really always like this. 

“What about the others, then? The monsters that don’t kill? What do you do with them?”

“They’re monsters. They all kill,” was Dean’s simple response. 

“I find that hard to believe. If there are good and bad humans, why wouldn’t there be good and bad monsters? Just because you’re born as something doesn’t mean you have to live up to it.” Elraenne knew this well herself— born an elf, grew up among humans, and several identity crises later had accepted that she fit in no where. 

“Well, there aren’t. Monsters are called ‘monsters’ for a reason. They’re bad, we kill them, end of story.” Dean seemed to be a little bit impatient with this whole conversation. 

“None? Not a single so-called ‘monster’ that you’ve ever found has been a nice one?” she asked again, looking for clarification. She turned her gaze to Sam, who had so far let Dean do that talking. “Every single monster you’ve found has been evil? Every single one?”

Sam shifted a little bit uncomfortably. “We have met a few… beings… that tried their best to ignore their monster instincts and be good… people.” He sighed slightly and furrowed his eyebrows together, again turning into a giant puppy. “But it usually doesn’t turn out well in the end.” Elraenne blinked at him, waiting for more of an explanation. “It’s nearly impossible to resist the urges that come with being turned into… a vampire, for example. Some manage to live off of animals instead of humans, but it’s difficult, and they nearly always fall back at some point to killing people. We have made exceptions, but it’s generally best to kill them before they relapse and start to kill others.” He looked sad at the thought, but it didn’t set Elraenne at ease.

“So you kill them before they have the chance to possibly kill anyone else,” she stated. The brothers looked only vaguely guilty as they nodded seriously. Well, she thought to herself. That answers that question. I’ll have to keep my magic a secret from these humans, too. She groaned internally. What had happened to the days when she had had human friends that she could be herself around? That was ages ago, she realized. Things have changed— I’m in hiding now. She had thought she was only in hiding from Loki, but it appeared that there were more enemies around than she had thought. She promised to herself that she would learn all she could about this other side of life on Earth that she had hitherto been unaware of. 

“Take the life of one vampire and save the lives of a hundred people. I can justify that.” Dean’s eyes glinted and it was evident that he had, in fact, justified that many times before. Elraenne felt a rage in her chest and unwittingly glared at him as his words spun around in her head. It wasn’t so long ago, at least in elf time, that she had learned these same words had been said concerning her, when she was still a child. The elder elves had been afraid of her abilities with magic— if she had turned against them, they had no doubt that the death toll would’ve been high. Kill her now, they had said, and avoid any of these future deaths that may or may not ever take place. Instead, Elrond had convinced them to wipe her mind and leave her stranded far from Middle Earth, where she could harm no one. She had escaped the cruel fate, but how many others hadn’t? These innocent, kind beings, who were perceived to be potentially dangerous at some point in the future, who didn’t even have a chance to prove otherwise. How many of them had these Winchester brothers killed, without batting an eye? Suddenly Elraenne wasn’t sure what she thought of the men standing before her. Who was the real villain here— these vampires or these hunters? She was only hearing one side of the story.

While these thoughts whirled away in her head, Elraenne’s expression became stony. Sam and Dean noticed and they tensed up, half-expecting her to lash out. Dean’s hand subtly and slowly moved towards his weapon, just in case it was needed. 

It was hard to make sense of this woman. First she had joked about their fake agent names. Although it was true that he had been a little bit proud that she caught the reference , it was still strange that she would joke about something so unimportant at a crime scene. And since that moment she had done nothing but arouse his suspicions for other reasons— she had disappeared, she had no idea what the demon warding symbol was (and yet he was nearly positive that she had used it), and she had a half-healed cut on her hand that he believed was not from a light on the set. And the weirdest thing was that when they found her behind the set, she had been glowing with green light. Just a little bit, and it was gone as soon as it had registered in his mind, but it had been there, he knew it. That was definitely his kind of weird, the kind of weird that hunters are familiar with. 

And now, here she was, obviously upset that he had insisted there were no kind, fluffy, kid-friendly monsters. If she wasn’t a monster herself, then she had some sort of connection with one, he was guessing. For now, he didn’t plan on pursuing it, but he definitely had his eye on her. 

Dean realized that he had been returning her glare with a glare of his own, and he took in a breath and lighten his expression, breaking the tension. 

Elraenne hadn’t realized she had been glaring at him until Dean had broken their eye contact. She looked at the ground and swallowed. It occurred to her that Dean had called being a hunter “the family business”. Perhaps it wasn’t fair of her to blame him for something that he had obviously been taught to do. And as far as taking one life to save many others, she thought that this was most likely how he justified his killing anyone, for any reason. He believed he was saving more lives than he was taking, whether or not that was actually true. 

So he probably wasn’t a villain… but she would remain wary. Elraenne raised her head to look once more at the brothers, and this time she was calm. An awkward couple minutes of silence had passed between them, but it felt as if they had come to an unwritten consensus. Both would watch the other carefully, but neither would accuse the other of anything drastic. At least, not yet.


End file.
